


Match My Euphoria

by emmpire



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Bottom!Bucky, Bucky barnes' metal arm, Bucky needs to get off, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Fluff, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Nightmares, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sexting, Size Kink, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve has conflicted feelings, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, kind of, mentions of other Avengers, minor authority kink, safe words, top!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmpire/pseuds/emmpire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has come home to Steve. Post HYDRA-fuckery, he hasn't actually had an erection/touched himself for a while and has trouble getting off. Steve lends a hand.</p><p>Non-consent tag for reference to past abuse in Chapter 3. It is one line of dialogue and not described.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Longing

Steve could hear Bucky through the wall as he lay in bed, sweating as the aircon failed to keep up with the warm night. At first it had been obvious pleasure sounds, which Steve has smirked at and tried to ignore. His smirk dissolved a little when he felt warmth pooling in his abdomen at a particularly ecstatic moan.

But after about 20 minutes of sporadic sounds, Bucky started to sound distressed, desperate little whining noises of discomfort. Steve put his feet over the edge of the bed and contemplated going in to Bucky's room. Steve wondered if a wet dream had descended into some awful nightmare. Neither of them were strangers to night terrors, both of them still had shell-shock.  _PTSD,_ Steve thought, correcting himself. 

Bucky had been living with him at his Brooklyn apartment for a few weeks now, since Wanda had managed to (mostly) erase Bucky's triggers and make some connections in his mind to his past memories. He was still not the Bucky Steve had grown up with, but he was not an entirely different person. Sometimes they'd had whole conversations where Steve could close his eyes and imagine he was back in 1935 with his friend.

But other times he didn't recognise the man he lived with, like when he cursed in Russian or sat, motionless, in his room for hours. Tony had offered Bucky an apartment at the Avengers tower (although he was not yet cleared for missions, Tony liked having that metal arm in his sights) which Bucky had tried for a few days. He'd ended up wandering the hallways in the middle of the night, unseeing as horrendous flashbacks took over his mind.

And so he'd come to live with Steve, who much preferred the quieter atmosphere of Brooklyn and his own space, without Tony, Wanda, Clint and Natasha invading his privacy (Bruce had a similar set up outside of New York and Thor - well, he kind of had his own realm.)

A much higher pitched shriek pierced Steve's wall followed by a thud. That made the decision for him and he was on his feet, down the hall and outside Bucky's door in 3 seconds.

He leaned his ear close to the door and knocked a couple of times.

"Buck? You okay?"

Silence.

"Bucky, I'm coming in, okay?"

He opened the door and saw Bucky on his bed, fetal, in sweats and no shirt. His sheets were in tangles and his lamp and glass of water knocked off the night stand.

"Hey, are you alright?" He crossed the distance from the doorway to the bed in a large stride and sat on the edge, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky flinched at the touch and groaned. "Steve..."

"I think I need some help," he mumbled into the pillow he had clutched to him.

"Tell me what's happening. Is it a flashback?" Steve asked, trying to keep his voice calm and steady, righting the lamp and putting the glass back on the nightstand.

"No, I ..." Bucky rolled over to face him and looked over Steve's shoulder, not meeting his eyes. "I can't get off," he said, letting out a breath.

Steve withdrew his hand automatically, immediately wishing he hadn't.

"Oh. Um. Right," he said, caught off guard and letting his words hang there as tried to consider a more erudite response.

"I don't know why it's not... You know, working. I just can't ... Get where I need to go?" Bucky gave him a tight smile. "Oh God, I don't know why I'm telling you this. I think they gave me something; HYDRA, to kind of... Keep everything at bay. It's all out of my system now and I ... It's fucking frustrating. I think I used to use the other hand? I don't know." Bucky trailed off, flopping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

Steve looked at his friend, wanting to help, trying to ignore the blood rushing south as Bucky talked about getting off, and wondering what he was supposed to say. He wondered if Bucky remembered their drunken nights in the barracks during the war, something that Steve had pushed far, far down into the recesses of his mind.

"Is there anything I can do?" He said, immediately cringing.

Bucky barked out a sudden laugh. "Um, aside from the obvious? Which is _not_ happening,"

"Maybe I can walk you through it." Steve said, not really knowing what he was doing.

Bucky's eyebrows shot up. After a beat, he said: "And how ... Would that go?"

"Close your eyes and take a breath," Steve instructed, and Bucky did so, his face still in an expression of wondrous amusement.

Steve could see Bucky's erection in his sweat pants. He swallowed hard.

"Okay so, I think we need to focus on your brain and not your dick," Steve said, having no idea how his voice sounded so authoritative when his face felt like it was flaming. "Can you think about something that...you know, turns you on? Do you remember any girls from...before?"

"Kind of," Bucky said, screwing up his eyes. "I have something. I don't know if it's a memory or a fantasy," he muttered. "It's someone sucking me off," he added.

Steve swallowed again and felt himself getting hard. "You don't have to tell me what it's about," he said.

"Focus on the sensations, the...wetness, the feel of...her tongue on you... Touch yourself and imagine it's her mouth," he said, not really believing he was saying these things to Bucky, and getting way more into it than he should be.

Bucky let out a small moan as he started to stroke himself again, rolling over onto his side facing away from Steve. "Keep talking," he breathed.

"Okay, um, she's sucking you in time to your strokes, you can see her lips stretched around your cock," Steve was fully hard now, his heart racing in his chest. "Hands are on your thighs, she's swallowing you down, her mouth is so warm and wet," Steve continued, his cheeks burning in shame and arousal.

Bucky moaned again, deeper this time, almost a growl. It shot straight to Steve's cock. "I think... It's working, don't stop," Bucky choked out.

Steve took a risk, wanting contact, and laid down behind Bucky, spooning him but with a little distance between them; he put a hand on Bucky's hip. "Is this okay," he asked, and Bucky immediately answered with a moan,

"Yes, good, just talk more,"

"Your cock is all the way down her throat, she's sucking you so hard, milking you, it feels so fucking good," Steve said, his voice low, and Bucky let out a little whine at the curse word, his strokes quickening as he thrust into his fist.

"She wants you to come in her mouth, Buck. Are you gonna come?" Steve said, feeling pre-come slip down his own shaft. He nudged himself a little closer to Bucky.

"Yes, fuck, I want to come, fuck," Bucky mumbled, rolling his hips so he fucked his fist over and over in smooth motions.

"That's good, baby," Steve said, the pet name tumbling off his tongue, "I want you to come, show me how good it feels," he said. Christ, he was so hard, he gripped Bucky's hip with one hand and the sheets below him with the other as he tried to ignore the warm pit in his stomach, threatening to devour him whole.

Bucky let out a sob, shuddering, "fuck, Stevie, I'm so close," and Steve's breath hitched in his chest at the nickname. On a whim, he stuck a finger in his mouth and pulled it out, pressing it to Bucky's nipple. Bucky cried out another wrecked sob at the unexpected stimulation.

" _Ahhngh_ ,"

Steve rubbed Bucky's hardening nipple and bent his head close to the shell of Bucky's ear. He whispered, low in his throat, "Do you like that?"

Bucky whined. "Yes, _mmnh_ , I like it, so fucking close,"

Steve leaned in again. "Come for me, soldier,"

"Oh fuck, Steve, _fuck_ , yes, I'm coming," Bucky's voice breaking as he thrust his cock into his fist for a few more strokes, before he finally broke apart, shooting ropes of cum over his hand and chest.

"Steve, Christ, fuck," he said again, as the waves of pleasure rolled over him, his cock still pulsing. It was all Steve could do not to spill in his pants right then, watching Bucky come and say his name.

Bucky rolled back to face him, his cheeks stained with tears of relief as he was finally sated, all tension seeping out of him. He wiped his hand on the bed sheet before nuzzling into Steve's chest, his metal arm curled beneath him and his other flung over Steve's back.

"Oh god, I needed that so badly, thank you, I'm sorry, thank you," he said into Steve's neck as Steve rolled onto his back, pulling Bucky to him so he laid on his chest.

"It's okay, don't be sorry, I'm -- it's fine," Steve breathed, stroking Bucky's hair as his breaths slowed. It was a few minutes before Steve realised Bucky was asleep, exhausted.

His cock still achingly hard, Steve tried to calm his heartbeat and process what had just happened. His mind replayed the image of Bucky coming into his own hand; Steve let out a small hum at the thought. One hand in Bucky's hair, the other slipped into his pants to stroke himself.

He let his fantasy unwind, imagining he had flipped Bucky onto his stomach and crawled on top of him, pulled down both their sweatpants and thrust his pre-come soaked cock into Bucky's ass crack, feeling all that heat and sweat and delicious friction --

"Fuck, fuck, _nmmh_ ," Steve breathed, trying not to wake Bucky as he came over his fist, his other hand tightening a little in Bucky's hair as he tilted his head back and struggled to get his breath.

"Oh, how the hell did we get here," he whispered to no one.

Sleep, and a small seed of shame, enveloped him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Stucky fic; so do be gentle. I think there could be more chapters if you like this? Comments are cookies. Come find me on Tumblr, if you like [(emmpire)](http://emmpire.tumblr.com/)


	2. Furnace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conflicted Steve is Conflicted. Bucky is hot as fuck.

It was 1943 and Bucky was drunk. Steve was not, but he was feeling pretty merry. He'd rescued nearly 400 men at Azzano and finally felt like he was putting his new found strength and size to good use.

"Fucking hell, Steve, look at you," Bucky slurred, putting his hands on Steve's ridiculously broad shoulders and leaning back against the door to Steve's officer's quarters. 

Steve gave him his trademark half smile, ducking his head and looking up through his stupidly long lashes. 

"You should get some sleep, Sergeant."

"Is that an order, Captain?" 

Steve's mouth went dry. Bucky was looking at him like he's seen him look at girls a hundred times, charming, predatory, and jaw dropping. Bucky slid his hands over Steve's expansive chest in a kind of reverie. 

"So, you bigger everywhere?"

*** 

Steve woke up, still in Bucky's bed and still semi hard. Bucky had rolled away from him and was curled towards the wall, still fast asleep. 

Steve felt his stomach clench at the memory of the night before. Had he crossed the line? Bucky had been desperate, for sure, but Steve had not been entirely altruistic. He kept hearing Bucky's pleading whimpers in his head. Fuck, he wanted to hear him make those sounds again, for _him_ , and not some fantasy. He knew he had been inches away (literally) from losing control. He'd been repressing his feelings and attractions to men -- well, mostly just Bucky -- for his whole fucking life. He knew things were different now, but it's not so easy to get over an attitude when it's beaten into you, mentally and physically, over the course of your whole life. 

He knew it wasn't the same for Buck. For him it was friendship, helping a guy out, making do in the war for the lack of dames and dance halls. He couldn't imagine that much had changed now. Bucky didn't want to wake up with him every day, read the paper and make waffles. He just needed to get off. And that was fine. Except when it wasn't. 

He made to get out of the bed, slow and quiet, when Bucky's metal arm shot out and grabbed his wrist. 

"Hey, it's just me," he said. 

Bucky opened an eye. "I know it's you, moron," he grumbled. "Where you going?" 

"What, you want help with morning wood too? Want me to make you breakfast?" Steve jabbed, defensive. 

"I was gonna say I owe you one, but since you're being an asshole, we'll call it even," Bucky said, releasing his wrist and rolling back towards the wall. 

"Jesus, Buck, let's just forget it, okay?" Steve said, getting to his feet. 

"Yeah. Forget it," Bucky said to the wall. 

***

The next couple of days were awkward, at first avoiding each other and then trying too hard to be normal; Bucky laughing too hard at Steve's stupid jokes, and Steve thanking Bucky too much for cooking. 

"Really, it's spectacular," he said, taking another bite of the spaghetti and meatballs. Bucky loved to cook, now. The first night he'd met Bucky at his short-lived Avengers Tower apartment, Steve has made them each a grilled cheese, with bacon and mushrooms. He'd meant it just as a snack, but when Bucky had bitten into it, he'd choked on a sound somewhere between relief and devastation. 

"What's wrong?" Steve had said, looking up from his own sandwich. 

Bucky chewed slowly and swallowed. "Nothing, I...haven't eaten anything this good since 1945. Or maybe ever." 

Steve's eyes had gotten wet at that, he'd reached out to touch Bucky's arm instinctively. 

So food was a big deal. Comfort, pleasure, warmth; it was like Bucky was relearning all these sensations that had been denied to him for so many years. 

"I'm glad you like it. It's hard for me to judge, everything seems to taste so good to me," Bucky said, getting up for more meatballs. 

Steve smiled, looking over at him and patted his stomach. "Good work, soldier," he said, teasing, but Bucky faltered, his fork hovering before his mouth as he leaned against the kitchen counter. 

Bucky cleared his throat and put his fork down. 

"Do we...should we talk about the other night." He said quietly, making it sound like a statement and not a question. 

Steve gathered up his plate and walked into the kitchen. He put his things near the sink and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder, forcing a smile. 

"What's to talk about? Just helping out, pal." He said, pushing that now-regular queasy feeling down in the pit of his stomach. He needed so badly for their friendship to be okay. He couldn't let his own fucked up feelings get in the way. 

Bucky stared at him for a long minute, green-grey eyes calculating his next move. 

"You're a bad liar, Rogers."  

They stood there for a beat, Steve felt anger uncoiling in his chest, fuck, he was trying to do the right thing and Bucky just kept _pushing_ ; why couldn't things be like before? Everyone knew where they stood, what was allowed and what most definitely _wasn't_. Now there were no limitations, no rules, except when there were, and Steve couldn't keep up, he hated this goddamn decade -- 

"What the fuck do you want from me, Bucky?" Whirling, he went to storm out, to gather himself, when Bucky grabbed his wrist to stop him, shouting,

"I don't know!" 

Steve spun back around, pushing Bucky back to free his wrist, harder than he meant to, his anger and hurt coming out in all the wrong ways. Bucky stumbled back, surprised, and went to steady himself on the counter, his hand catching on the knife on the chopping board, parsley askew. He regained his balance and lifted his cut palm to his mouth, sucking the wound. "Fuck!" He mumbled, nursing his hand. 

Steve immediately crossed the kitchen, crowding Bucky between the wall and the counter, taking his injured hand to inspect it. "Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean --" 

Bucky jerked his hand away, his eyes flashing anger and shock. 

"Maybe this isn't going to work, me living here. I could --"

"No, wait, Bucky, please, you don't have to -- don't go. Things are complicated, I get it, but I need you here," Steve babbled, rubbing his hand through his hair, desperate for reparations. 

Bucky snorted, coldly, "you need me? Doesn't seem like it, pal." He pushed himself off the wall, whacking Steve's shoulder with his own as he barged out of the kitchen. 

Steve stood in silence in the kitchen. His heart pounded, his gut twisting in a sick, hot feeling that made tears threaten at the back of his eyes. He swallowed them down. "Even when I had nothing, I had you," he said to the empty room. He started to clean. 

  
*  
  


It was dark, warm again, and Steve tossed in his bed, not knowing how to soothe the worsening knot in his stomach. Bucky had retreated to his room and not emerged since their argument in the kitchen (was it only 5 hours ago? It seemed like an age). 

He got up, paced the hallway, stopping close to Bucky's door and listening. 

He stood there for an unknown length of time before opening the door and entering Bucky's darkened room. The heat was more oppressive in here, but Bucky was tucked up under his blankets, cosy as could be. 

Steve slid into Bucky's bed, laying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Took you 28 minutes outside the door to come up with that?" Bucky murmured. 

"Don't be a punk."

Silence. And then,

"Talk to me some more." Bucky said, voice barely a whisper. 

"We are talking," Steve replied, turning his head to look at Bucky. 

"No, like before. Tell me a story," Bucky said, cocking an eyebrow. Steve could just make out the wicked expression in the room's darkness. 

"Buck, I don't know if that's --"

"Please. I can't seem to do it without you, I can't relax, I need it," he said, his voice pleading. 

Steve's tenuous resolve was useless against Bucky's requests, and the black truth was he was desperate to hear him make those sounds, shudder underneath him, say his name. 

"Touch yourself," he commanded. 

"Already doing it," Bucky responded, sounding a little breathless. 

"Do you have a fantasy?" 

Bucky shivered a little. "Yes."

"Like before, then. Focus on the sensations. Stroke yourself slowly -- wait," he stopped himself, and Bucky whined. Steve jumped out of bed. "One second. Hold that thought."

He jogged down the hall to his own room, fished around in his nightstand and found his mark - tingly lube. It had been a gag gift from Nat after he again declined her efforts to play Cupid, but it had come in (forgive the pun) surprisingly handy. He strode back to Bucky's room and resumed his position beside him. 

"That was 7.6 seconds."

"It'll be worth it. Use some of this," he said, offering the tube to Bucky. He took it and squeezed some into his palm and slipped it once more below the sheets. 

It was a few seconds and then, "oh, fuck _me_ ," 

Steve was flooded with arousal at the words, but he tried to keep his cool. "Fuck yourself," he said. 

Bucky whined, "talk to me, Captain," and then, softer, "touch me."

Steve was dangerously falling apart. His cock was straining at his soft pyjama pants, pre-come already budding at the tip, sweat pooling at the base of his spine. 

"Okay, okay," he muttered, rolling over and tipping Bucky toward the wall, spooning him again, closer this time. His hardness must be obvious against Bucky's lower back, but he didn't say anything, just groaned and nudged himself back and closer to Steve. 

"That's it, baby, stroke yourself for me...picture your lover, touching you just how you like, licking down your cock, fingers...exploring," his hand drifted down Bucky's back to the curve of his ass to illustrate. 

Bucky keened, curling his back and pushing into Steve's hardness, fucking his fist. "Yes, mmmnh," he whined. 

"Good, soldier, keep doing that, keep stroking, just like that," he repeated his trick with his finger, lifting Bucky slightly to slide his arm underneath him, pinning him against his chest and rubbing his nipple. His other hand gripped Bucky's hip as he thrust automatically into his backside, his cock desperate for friction. 

"Oh, fuck, Stevie, I'm gonna come, I want you to -- I want you to come, Steve, please --" he broke off into a choked sob.  

Steve lost it. He was thrusting against Bucky in earnest now, before biting down on the skin between his neck and shoulder. 

Bucky cried out. "Steve,Steve,Stevie--" 

"I'm here, Bucky, baby, come for me," Steve choked, watching as Bucky thrust into his own hand, coming over himself with a cry. God, he wanted him so badly -- 

Steve followed him over the edge, gripping Bucky's hip and rubbing his dick between them as he spilled into his pants. 

They stayed there for a beat before Steve rolled over onto his back, chest heaving. Bucky rolled to face him, eyes expectant. 

Steve stared straight ahead. "Sorry, I got...carried away," he said, swallowing. 

Bucky sighed, frustrated. He wanted to scream. "I'm gonna go shower, it's hot as fuck in here." He manoeuvred himself over Steve and left the room without a backward glance. 

When he returned, towel slung low on his hips and hair slicked back with moisture, Steve had gone. 

 

**

 

In the morning, Steve was making waffles and bacon when Bucky walked out of his room. 

"Morning," Bucky said, voice neutral. 

"Hey, morning," Steve said, clearing his throat. "Look, I --" he turned to look at Bucky, who was shirtless and in pyjama pants so low he could see his treasure trail spread into thicker hair. He gaped. 

"This is stupid." Bucky said, crowding into Steve's space by the stove.  

"I think -- maybe we should --" Steve began.

Bucky kissed him, his metal hand at the back of Steve's neck, drawing him down into a wet, frustrated kiss. 

"Mmmph," came out of Steve. 

"Shut the fuck up," Bucky drawled against his lips. 

Steve's body reacted in all kinds of sinful ways. He dropped the cooking tongs onto the counter and his hands to Bucky's hips, his skin feeling like fire. Bucky's tongue was licking against his, before he started to suck on Steve's bottom lip and -- God almighty, Steve liked that -- he felt himself harden in his jeans, allowing himself to rock a little into Bucky's groin. 

Steve heard himself make a little whining noise in his throat, digging his fingers into Bucky's hips; Christ, he needed more, his arousal short circuiting his hang ups. He swept his arm across the counter next to them, clearing the kitchen debris, and hoisted Bucky easily onto it, still kissing. Bucky wrapped both arms around Steve's neck and moaned into his mouth. Steve put his hands on his thighs and pulled so he was between Bucky's legs. 

"Fuck, Stevie, yeah," Bucky mumbled, his hands trailing down the Captain's back. He pulled his mouth off Steve's and tugged his hair so his neck was bared, before kissing down his jawline into his collarbone. 

"It was you, you that got me off," he muttered into Steve's neck. 

Steve let out a laugh that cut short into a gasp as Bucky bit down into his skin. "I know, I was there," he said, breathless. 

"No, I mean...the fantasy, memory, whatever. I thought about you sucking me off. Fuck, you get me so hard," Bucky gasped, "did we ever do that?"

Warmth and pleasure and something that felt like a dark pride spread through Steve's gut. "A few times... Not anything more," he added. 

"When you were...littler?" Bucky asked. Steve broke their kiss and looked at him. 

"No, never then, only after I... After the experiment."

"Hmm. I think I wanted to, before that," Bucky said, resuming his ministrations to Steve's collarbone. Steve tucked away that revelation for later. Bucky piped up again, 

"So you've never fucked me before?" 

Steve took a sharp breath, digging his fingers into Bucky's muscled thighs. "No," he answered. "I've never fucked anyone," he added, the harsh expression sounding foreign in his mouth.

"Oh, Stevie, baby," Bucky murmured, stroking his hair and grinding his hips closer. "Let me show you how." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I have one more chapter in me; in which Bucky gets fucked and explains to Steve that yes, they love each other and it's all good, dollface. Thank you for the comments on the first chapter, I got excited butterflies every time I read one. Come find me on Tumblr, if you like [(emmpire)](http://emmpire.tumblr.com/)


	3. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve are honest with each other and run into a few hurdles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning** Please note this chapter contains a direct reference to past sexual abuse that Bucky suffered as a prisoner of HYDRA. It is not described or explicit, but his meaning is obvious and Steve has a very visceral reaction. There is also one instance of a homophobic slur. 
> 
> This chapter is from Bucky's POV (and he's way more fun to write than Steve!!). It also kind of changes the tone of the story a little bit so I hope that's okay, but I wanted it to feel a bit more authentic.

_(The night before)_

 

Bucky stood under the shower stream, willing the hot water to wash out the cold, tight coil of frustration in his chest. Jesus, didn't Steve know it wasn't the 40s anymore? Bucky knew it was more than just 'helping out' or 'getting carried away'. For god's sake, he's a master assassin, he knows how to read people. 

Why couldn't Steve just come out -- ha, Bucky snorted at that-- and admit his feelings? Bucky could do that too, he supposed, and force the issue, but...did he have to do all the work? 

Bucky stepped out of the shower, still marvelling at the seemingly endless hot water. He fucking loved this era. He considered walking back into his room naked, god knows he could go another round. Steve's face would be a picture. But he opted for a towel, ran his hands through his hair, and went back to his room. 

Steve was gone. Bucky sighed. He guessed he  _did_ have to do everything around here.

 

*** 

 

It was ridiculously good to have Steve between his thighs, kissing him, touching him, Christ; why had he bothered waiting around for so many weeks? Amateur, Bucky. Fucking amateur. 

"I've never fucked anyone before,"

Oh, there _is_ a god. Not only does he get to fuck Steve, but he gets to be the first? 

"Oh, Stevie, baby, let me show you how," he muttered. 

Steve went kind of tense. "You've done...that before? With men, I mean?" He looked at him, blue eyes deep and clear and curious. 

Bucky swallowed. "I mean, technically, yeah."

"When."

Oh. Steve was jealous. He wouldn't be for much longer. 

"It's not... It's not the same. Please understand that. But --" Bucky broke off, wondering how to tell Steve this awful thing, this hurt he'd wrapped up so carefully and quietly, to have it all unravel in front of him. This was going to kill the mood. 

"HYDRA...like to play with their toys." He said, looking over Steve's shoulder. He looked at him after a few seconds and wished he could unsee the brokenness, the horror that unfolded across his beautiful face. 

"Bucky, no," he stepped back, his hand at his mouth, his eyes wide and wet with shock. 

"No, no, those sons of -- fuck! I swear Bucky, I will find every last motherfucker who touched you and -- destroy them. Jesus Christ, fuck!" He spun, putting a fist through the wall. 

"Steve, Steve, stop," Bucky said, jumping down from the counter and putting his hands on his shoulders. 

"It's okay. I mean, it's not okay, and they deserve to die, and I will follow you to the end of the earth to help you kill them. But I'm okay, I'm here, I'm not broken beyond -- beyond repair. I made it out. I'm out." He clasped his hands behind Steve's neck. Steve wrapped his arms around his waist and squeezed him close. "I won't let this thing that happened to me stop me from doing things I want to do, things that make me feel good and whole and...loved."

"I'm so sorry, Bucky, I'm so sorry, I --" Steve broke off, and sobbed into Bucky's neck. They stood there for a long while, Bucky rubbing Steve's back in long, soft strokes.  

"Do you want to go out somewhere?" Steve said suddenly, pulling back and rubbing his eyes. "I think we should go somewhere."

Bucky looked up at him. "You gonna take me on a date, Rogers?" He teased, trying to repair the atmosphere. 

Steve smiled weakly and slung an arm around Bucky's shoulders. "Come on, soldier," he replied. 

 

***

 

Steve and Bucky walked around Brooklyn for a few hours, stopping for coffee (tea, in Steve's case) and soaking up the midday sun. 

They wandered, occasionally running into kids who wanted a picture with Captain America. Bucky watched, intent, as Steve hoisted children into his arms and smiled for photos. He felt something warm spread in his chest at the sight, but hung back and kept his baseball cap pulled low. 

After Natasha had released HYDRA's files to the world, Bucky had officially been recognised as a prisoner of war and no charges were laid against him in the United States. However, public opinion still wasn't great. 

"I like that things have changed, but stayed the same," Steve said, after they had moved on from the last of the clamouring children. "It's the same streets we walked 70 years ago. The same alleys, the same bricks, the same trees." 

"Yeah." Bucky agreed. "Different ain't bad," he added glancing up at Steve's tall frame. Steve brushed their hands as they walked. 

"I'm so glad you're back, Buck." 

Bucky smiled. Steve gestured forward, skipping a little, and turned into an alley. "Remember this?" He spun, gleeful. "You literally kicked a guys ass in here."

Bucky laughed. "Yeah, I think so," he answered. They stood there for a moment, taking each other in. Steve had stepped in, closer in Bucky's space when someone rounded the corner and stopped dead. 

"It is you, Cap!" the man shouted, but his voice was sharp and cruel. "And the fucking Russian traitor." 

Steve, huge and towering, rounded on the man. "What? I'm sorry, did you have something to say to us? To this decorated veteran?" His voice was low and dangerous. Bucky stepped back, sank down in his knees a little, and slid his hand behind his back to grip the knife tucked into his jeans. 

"He would'a killed you, Cap! Probably still will, the filthy scum," the man shouted down the alley. He was solid, stocky, but that was of little consequence to Steve. Bucky blinked and the man was on the ground, pinned underneath Steve who had him by the shoulders. 

"Who the fuck are you? Have you been to war?! You're nobody. What the hell's your problem?" he shouted in the man's face. The man sneered, ego obviously outweighing any shred of common sense. 

"My problem is watching you flit around my town with this piece of shit like a couple'a fags," he spat. 

Steve's control broke. He punched the guy in the face, spattering blood, and then again. He raised his fist a third time, when Bucky caught it. 

"Steve, stop, you're gonna kill him!" 

"He fucking deserves it!" Steve shouted, but his fist had uncurled in Bucky's grasp. 

"Hey boys. Problem?" Bucky's head snapped up. 

"Widow?"

" _Soldat_." 

"Nat?" said Steve, "what are you doing here?"

Natasha glanced out towards the street, red curls framing her face as she stood in her civilian clothes. "Please, like I don't keep tabs on you guys. I was around. Who's this asshole?" 

"Just some scumbag," Bucky responded quietly. The man on the ground was out cold. Steve was still on top of him, one hand still gripping his shirt.  

"Steve," Nat said, voice quiet and calm, and held out her hand. Steve took it and stood. 

"Why don't you two get out of here. I can deal with this, she said, taking out her phone and scanning the street again for witnesses. It looked clear. Nobody needed to see Steve Rogers lose it in a back alley. 

"I need a car. My location, 5 minutes." Natasha said into her phone. 

"Let's go home, Cap." Bucky muttered, nodding to Natasha. Steve allowed himself to be pulled away, trailing Bucky back to the apartment. Neither spoke. 

When they stepped into the foyer Bucky hit the lift button and turned to Steve. "How you doing, there, bud?" Steve didn't meet his eyes. 

"I guess this morning kind of shook me up." He spoke to the floor. 

"It'd be weird if it didn't," Bucky said, taking Steve's hand to inspect his knuckles. They were already healing.  

The elevator dinged and they stepped in. 

"I don't... I haven't lost my temper like that for a long time. But Jesus, I wanted to kill that guy, Buck. I was outside myself, you know?" 

Bucky glanced at him. "You know I do." 

Steve hit the emergency brake. 

"Bucky, I...I need you to know this." He took both of Bucky's hands in his own, meeting his eyes. He swallowed. "I've loved you my whole life. I'm in love with you. You're it, for me. There is nothing I won't do for you and I don't care what anyone thinks or says or does. No one's gonna hurt you, because you're mine." The last bit came out in a rush, the grip on Bucky's hands uncomfortably tight. 

Bucky gave a smile like the rising sun. 

"Oh, baby; I know. I'm just glad you finally do." He pulled Steve in for a kiss. "I love you," he said against his mouth. "I love you." 

* 

Bucky barely allowed Steve time to set his keys down and kick off his shoes when they were back in the apartment. He felt a little like he'd spent all day tracking a mark and now he had him in his sights. Bucky went in for the kill. 

He turned on Steve, who was glancing at the mail on the hall table when Bucky pounced. He put both hands on Steve's chest and pushed him into the door, closing all the space between them and leaning up to kiss Steve's mouth. 

"Mmm," Steve hummed, dropping his hands to Bucky's waist. 

"I want you, I need you, now," Bucky whined, already hard. Bucky felt Steve shiver under his hands as he  brought one hand up to Bucky's neck to crush his mouth closer, licking along Bucky's lower lip before pushing his tongue into his mouth. 

"Yes, I want that, I want you," he confirmed. Like Bucky couldn't tell from his - shit, he'd forgotten how fucking big he was - hardening cock pressing up against his abdomen. 

"Can we move to the bedroom or do I just fuck you against the wall?" Steve said, his voice low. Bucky loved how Steve always took control even when he was a little out of his depth. He knew he could handle it. 

"Let's work up to that, shall we?" Bucky said, turning away abruptly, stripping off his shirt and walking to Steve's bedroom. "Coming?" 

He heard Steve curse to himself and smirked. 

He lay down on his back on Steve's bed, unbuttoning his jeans as Steve followed, getting his shirt caught around his head in his haste. "God, you're adorable," Bucky grinned. 

"Is that any way to address a superior?" Steve asked, freeing himself, and _goddamn_ if that didn't make Bucky twice as hard. 

"No, sir," he swallowed. Steve grinned, cheeks flushing. 

Steve folded himself onto the bed and onto Bucky,  awkwardly trying to scrabble out of his jeans while kissing. Bucky took pity on him and flipped him onto his back, standing and ripping his jeans off with his metal arm while he shuffled out of his own. He ditched his briefs, too, and Steve gaped as he took him in. His lean muscles on his stomach, the bulk of his thighs dusted with hair, and his - frankly impressive - cock, hard and leaking. 

"At ease," Steve tried to tease, but the crack in his voice gave him away. He pulled him back onto the bed. Bucky straddled him, Steve still in his briefs, and rolled his hips. Steve's own hard cock pressed against him and the motion elicited a shuddering breath. 

They kissed, tongues hot, and Bucky slipped his hand down between them and pulled Steve's briefs down his thighs. He started to stroke him, hard and fast. Steve's brain exploded a little, crying out with pleasure at the touch he'd wanted for so long. 

"Fuck baby, yeah," he moaned, arching his hips up into the touch. "Oh god, I'm not gonna last," he half whispered and Bucky pressed his mouth onto Steve's neck, licking the skin there. 

"Then don't," he said, biting down and stroking Steve's pre-come up and down his shaft. 

When Bucky brought his mouth to Steve's nipple, he arched again, crying out. "Come for me, Steve," Bucky said, flicking his tongue against his nipple and pinning him to the bed with his metal arm. 

"Fuck, _fuck_ , yes," Steve cried as he came all over Bucky's hand. 

Bucky licked some of the cum off his fingers, while Steve gazed up at him, blue eyes dark rings of lust. He had barely softened, and gasped sharply when Bucky reached behind himself to push one wet finger into his hole. 

"I want you to fuck me," 

Steve couldn't speak, he could barely breathe as Bucky worked himself open. He ran his hands over Bucky's chest and down onto his cock, making a fist and sweeping it slowly up and down its length. 

Bucky closed his eyes at the touch as he added another finger and brushed at his prostate, a low moan in his throat. He continued to fuck himself on his fingers while Steve gazed at him in awe, jerking him off. 

Steve took Bucky's metal hand and put two fingers in his mouth, sucking them slowly in time to his hand movements. Bucky couldn't really feel pleasure in his arm, but pressure and wetness translated okay; and the sight alone was enough to almost make him lose it. 

"St-stop, I want to come when you're inside me," he begged. Steve's eyes were black. 

"Are you ready?" He asked, his voice wet and low. 

"I think so," Bucky said. Steve sat up and rolled Bucky under him in a smooth motion, facing each other. Bucky pulled his feet up so his knees were raised. Steve leant down, kissing down his stomach and cock, onto his balls, and then to his hole, licking tentatively. 

"Mmmh, Steve!!" Bucky shouted, surprised and overcome. 

"Just making sure you're wet for me," he muttered, licking into him with careful strokes. _Jesus_ , who was this guy? 

"How do you --, where did you --" Bucky broke off into a moan. 

"Internet, so helpful," Steve muttered against his skin. 

Bucky's head was spinning. He was so close, with Steve's tongue doing _filthy_ things, but he desperately wanted to hold off until Steve fucked him. 

"Ok baby, now, please, I need it," Bucky whined. 

"Mmmhm," Steve hummed, darting his tongue a few more times. "Need to do this some more later," he said. 

Steve crawled up Bucky's body, taking in the beautiful man below him. His chest felt tight; he was hard as fuck, and he was finally about to get laid.  

"Wait, wait, slick yourself up," Bucky said, twisting to the nightstand to get the tingly lube. 

Steve did so, pausing as he coated himself. "Rubber?" But Bucky shook his head. 

"Super serum," he said. 

Steve acquiesced and nudged the head of his cock into Bucky's slick hole. He pushed in, an inch at a time, sucking in a sharp breath as the tight heat engulfed him. "Oh, fuck, baby, feel so good," he panted, about half way to bottoming out. Bucky whined in his throat. 

"Ok, Buck?" Steve asked. 

Bucky screwed up his eyes and nodded, forcing himself to relax. Steve pushed further, letting out a slow breath. "Are you there?" Bucky asked. 

"Almost,"

"Fuck, Steve, you're huge," Bucky whined. "I'm okay," he added quickly. 

Steve finally pushed himself all the way in, and paused for Bucky's sake, willing himself to go slow. He started to roll his hips with long, careful strokes. 

"Yes, _mmm_ , Steve, so good, like that," the burn slowly giving way to a deep, warm pleasure.  

Bucky clasped his hands behind Steve's neck, pulling him down into a wet kiss, before trailing down and biting his shoulder. 

Steve thrust a little harder, the slick sensation threatening to overcome him, wanting to pound Bucky into the mattress. 

"You like having my hard cock in you, Buck? Make you feel good?" Steve ran a hand through Bucky's hair and tugged a little.  

"Fuck, yes, Steve, I love it when you talk like that," Bucky whimpered, reaching down to palm himself. 

Steve started to move faster, seeking out Bucky's prostate, pulling out slightly to hit the shallower spot. 

Bucky howled, fucking his fist, dangerously close to the edge. 

"Yes, there, _nnngh_..."

"Come all over yourself Buck, come while I fuck you," Steve whimpered, his control slipping. He pulled Bucky's hair to force his head to tilt back, leaned down and bit into his throat, fucking him with urgent, shallow strokes. 

Bucky choked out another groan as he shot cum all over his chest and stomach. Steve faltered, feeling Bucky clench around him; thrusts erratic now, seeking his own release.  

"Bucky, oh god, _Bucky_ \--"

He came so hard his vision blurred, coating Bucky's passage with hot seed. 

Steve let out a broken sound and collapsed on Bucky's chest, panting, his forehead damp with sweat. 

"Jesus Christ," Bucky murmured. 

"Yeah."   

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Steve got laid! I hope you enjoyed this, I had a lot of fun writing it. I think I want to wrap up the story a bit more so I will post another chapter (this is addictive). But I wanted to give you an update after leaving you hanging in the last part!!!


	4. Rusted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a nightmare and then tells Steve what he needs.

 Steve slipped himself out of Bucky and rolled over so they were both on their backs. 

"Why'd we take so long to do that?" He asked. Bucky's eyes were closed but he smiled. 

"Evidence is in that we're both really stupid." Steve grinned at that, before stretching and forcing himself to jump out of bed. Bucky raised his head, expression concerned. "Not sleeping in here?" 

Steve halted and turned. "Just getting a washcloth. You're kind of filthy," he smirked, ducking out into the hall. 

Bucky smiled and sighed. He felt warm, his muscles relaxed, his spine sinking into the mattress below him. He felt satisfied, full, happily tired. Even the pain in his left shoulder, constant and dull, had soothed to a barely noticeable tingle. Steve came back and rubbed a damp, warm washcloth over his chest, wiping up the sweat and semen. He moved slowly and softly and like Bucky was something precious. Something to be taken care of. It felt so good, Bucky drifted soundlessly into sleep. 

*

"No, no, no!" Bucky was screaming but no sound was coming out. He was thrashing but unmoving. The only visible change was the panic in his face. 

"Look at him, he's losing it," said Dmitry. It wasn't English, but Bucky could understand them. When had he learned Russian? 

"That's right, Barnes. Your Cap's never gonna save you now. He's dead  at the bottom of the ocean," said Vasily, the depraved pleasure evident in his voice. "He was a fool, weak in the mind even when they pumped him up. Poor breeding, that's what it is," he added. 

Bucky's arm twitched, rage and hurt and despair flooding his veins. He found he could move now, scream, now, and he did, howling as he ripped his metal arm from one of the restraints; not making words but just sounds of agony. He lunged at Vasily, pulling wires and metal before Dmitry hit him with the prod, electric heat searing his flesh --- 

"Bucky, Bucky, wake up, it's me, you're safe!"

"Steve's dead!" He wailed, "he's gone and I'm gonna die here, they'll kill me and wake me up again, oh god, I don't wanna die -- but please, just let me --"  

Steve shook him, hard, "Bucky!" 

His eyes snapped open, wild, agonised, "get the fuck away from me!" He screamed, rolling off the bed and hurling himself into the corner, knees tucked into his chest, sobbing. 

"Bucky." Steve repeated, calm. "Baby." He knelt on the floor, turning on the light. Bucky whimpered. 

"I don't know where I am," Bucky whispered, rocking. Steve inched closer. 

"You're here, with me. It's Steve. I'm not dead. You're not dead. We're in Brooklyn. We're at home. You're okay, you're safe." 

"Jesus, my arm, what happened to it? What the fuck is this?!" His voice scrabbled higher, fear and panic and confusion running like starved rats across his brain. 

"You're okay, Buck. Breathe, I swear to you you're okay. You're James Buchanan Barnes, you lost your arm and have a prosthesis. It's okay."

Bucky was silent for a minute. His breathing began to slow. 

"It hurts. My arm."

Steve's eyes went wide. He didn't know. "I can get you something for it, if you like --"

"No! Don't go, please, don't leave me," Bucky whimpered, reaching out. He looked into the man's face. Blue eyes gazed back at him, worried. 

"Steve?"

"Yeah, baby." Steve shuffled forward on his knees. 

"M'sorry, I -- got ... lost again."

"Please, don't be sorry," Steve choked back a sob and pressed a tentative hand to Bucky's shoulder. "It's okay." Bucky flinched but after a few seconds, folded himself into Steve's arms and wept. 

*

Steve gathered Bucky up in his arms and managed to get him settled back in bed, curling his huge frame around him despite the warm night. He kissed his neck and held his arm to Bucky's chest, pinning them together. 

Bucky hadn't spoken. "Are you okay?" Steve asked. 

"I don't know." Came the reply. 

"Does your arm always hurt you?" Steve's voice was a whisper. 

"Mostly, yeah. It's tolerable."

Steve gripped Bucky tighter to him. "Do you want to go and see Tony about it? Maybe he can --"

"Steve. Don't -- just stop." Bucky rolled out of his grip and turned to face him. "I remember all my missions. I remember all my kills, my targets, my handlers." 

Steve looked at him and didn't say anything, waiting for him to finish the thought. 

"I barely remember anything before the war. Girls, you, your mom. My parents, a bit. Sometimes you look at me like I'm ... Like I'm your Bucky and I don't think I am." His face was twisted in an awful misery. "I don't want you to think you love someone who I'm not."

"I know you're not the same, Buck,'' Steve said, taking his face in his hands. "Neither am I. But I still love you and you are still my Bucky, the way you are," Steve said, in a rush, suddenly feeling desperate and sick. 

"I feel like... I don't know. Like I don't deserve you. Like I should be punished. How can I deserve all this? Food and warmth and pleasure?"

Steve's breath hitched. He reached out to pull Bucky close, breathing in his hair and kissing his forehead.  "What they did was punishment enough. You were brainwashed, you don't deserve to be deprived -- or in pain. You don't need to be punished, baby." he finished. 

They were silent for a few minutes, and Steve started to drift off when Bucky spoke again. 

"What if I want you to?" Bucky whispered into Steve's neck. "What if I do need it, need you to punish me," he said, a little breathless. 

Steve's brain clicked into place. Oh. _Oh_. Oh fuck, he thought, blood rushing south. 

"I don't know if that's something I can -- I just kind of got my head around this," he gestured between them. Bucky pressed against him. 

"Really? Because your dick says otherwise," he shifted closer and gazed up at Steve. "Look at me and tell me it doesn't turn you on, to think of me kneeling before you; doing anything you ask. I'd be so good, I promise,"

Steve's brain was melting. 

"What sort of things would you...need me to do?" Steve managed to form the words. 

"Just to...make me earn it. Earn my pleasure. Earn you,--" Bucky trailed off, pulling Steve into a wet kiss, pushing his tongue into Steve's mouth and tracing circles. Steve whined in his throat, pulling Bucky to him, rolling himself underneath so Bucky laid over him like a blanket. 

"Ask me to do things and _make_ me do them. Hurt me and then make it better. Make me beg --" Bucky stopped, distracted by Steve's hands on the curve of his ass, kneading into him. 

"Tell me when I can touch you, when I can be fucked, when I can come... And then, when I've been a good boy, take care of me," he finished. Steve honest to god growled in his throat, flipping them so he pinned Bucky to the bed, thrusting his hard cock against Bucky's thigh. He bit into the juncture of Bucky's shoulder and neck. 

"You want that? Want me to...dominate you? Make you scream so loud everyone knows you're mine," Steve was losing himself in the fantasy. 

"Yes, fuck, yes, I need it," Bucky begged. He rolled his hips a little, rubbing them together. 

Steve let out a little gasp. "Bucky --" He had more to say, but everything was dark and confusing and _fuck_. Bucky had wriggled down to take Steve in his mouth, and was proceeding to do so. 

"Unnff," Steve shouted. He let Bucky suck on him for a minute. 

"Bucky. Stop," he said, pulling Bucky off him. His dick came out of Bucky's mouth with a pop. "Roll over on your stomach," Steve ordered. 

Bucky shivered at his authoritative tone. He sounded like Captain America. He obeyed immediately. Steve pulled Bucky's pants down roughly, spread his cheeks and started to lick into him, still vaguely tasting his own cum from a few hours earlier. 

Bucky squealed, and Steve stopped, crawling back up to whisper in Bucky's ear. 

"Let's give this a try, then. I'm going to lick you open for me. You're not allowed to make noise. If you can do it, I'll fuck you however you want," Steve muttered into Bucky's ear. Bucky nodded vigorously. 

"And if I do make a noise?" He asked. 

"I won't fuck you, just jerk myself off over you." Bucky keened and thrust himself into the mattress. 

"No pain?" He asked into the pillow and Steve almost didn't hear him. He cleared his throat. 

"No pain. Let's just see how this goes, okay? If you need to stop..." He thought for a minute. 

"I won't," Bucky said quickly. 

"If you need to stop, say 107th," Steve finished firmly. 

"Okay! Okay," Bucky agreed. 

"Quiet, now," Steve commanded. Bucky bit into his pillow. 

Steve kissed down his back and settled himself back between his thighs. He started to lick into Bucky's hole, long laps from his perineum up his crack. Bucky shivered but stayed silent. Despite his lack of experience, Steve showed a natural talent with his tongue, dipping in and out, swirling, tracing his initials over and over as Bucky's hole loosened slowly. 

Bucky slipped into mission mode. He took slow, deep breaths, focusing on one goal: remain silent. He had been in government buildings, people's bedrooms, people's _cars_ completely undetected. A silent storm; breaking in, wreaking havoc and leaving before anyone saw or heard him. None had been such a struggle as this. To be fair, none of those times was he being tongued in the ass by Steve Rogers, or on the sharp, dangerous edge of orgasm. 

20 minutes or so in, Steve slipped in a finger. Bucky tensed and bit hard into the pillow, suppressing a desperate groan. Steve started to kiss back up his back, slipping in another finger as he did so. Bucky clenched his fists into the sheets. 

"Oh you did so good, baby, you're done, all done. You can make noise again now. And you will, because I'm about to fuck you," Steve said, licking the shell of Bucky's ear. Bucky cried out in relief. 

"Mmm holy fuck, that was amazing," Bucky breathed. 

Steve positioned himself and started to slip into Bucky's loose, wet heat. 

"Mmmnfff," came out of Steve. Bucky gasped, still fisting the sheets and humping the mattress. 

It was quick and filthy, both of them strung out and needy. Steve pounded Bucky hard, before slipping a hand under his hip, bringing him up onto his knees. He kept one hand on his hip, thrusting deep and smooth into Bucky's wet hole, while the other explored Bucky's chest, pinching his nipples before reaching down to palm his cock. 

"Oh, Steve, yes," Bucky hissed. "I'm not gonna last," 

"I want you to come for me, baby. You've been such a good boy," Steve groaned, his own release bearing down on him. 

"Oh, fuck, Steve, fuck, come on me, please," Bucky whined. 

Steve shuddered at Bucky's words, thrusting into his hot channel twice more before pulling out, fisting his cock in time with his other hand on Bucky's. It was only a few pulls before he came onto Bucky's back with a shout. Bucky glanced back and saw Steve come undone, and it broke him, coming into Steve's fist. 

"Steve, yes, mmmffff," Bucky cried, falling forwards into the pillows. Steve followed, their legs tangling, pulling Bucky to his chest as they came down from the high, hearts pounding. 

"So you like that, then," Bucky said softly, after a few long minutes of catching breath. 

"Let me-- let me think about it. If I ... If we do this, I want you to see Tony about your arm. I need to be in control of ... What's hurting you," he mumbled the last bit. 

Bucky keened a little and snuggled against Steve's chest. "Yes, okay," he responded.  

Exhausted, sheened in sweat and soreness, they slept. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was all set to write a nice little wrap up to this story, when I realised there wasn't nearly enough kink. So now it's kind of taking itself in a new direction. Let's just see where this goes, shall we? Comments are cookies! 
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr, if you like: [(emmpire)](http://emmpire.tumblr.com/)


	5. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve gets a blowjob, they go see the Avengers, and Bucky is a little shit.

Steve woke up at 6am the next morning, feeling like he had cabin fever. The last few days had been a weird bubble of Steve-Bucky-feelings-&-sex. Not to say it wasn't amazing, but also complicated and confusing and a little anxiety inducing. Steve was keen to get back into his old routine and make things feel a little more normal. As such, he bounded out of bed and got into his running gear.   
  
He watched Bucky while he dressed, deep in what he hoped was a dreamless sleep. He was wriggled down the bed so his head was off the pillow, face shielded by his long hair. Steve wondered if he'd cut it. He liked it long, though. And it might be too surreal to have Bucky look like -- well, Bucky. 

  
He strode into the kitchen, the hole in the wall catching his eye from where he'd hit it in a rage after Bucky's revelation. Oops. He wrote a note: 

  
_B,_  
_Heading out for a run, 6:10am. Back at 8. Call me if you need anything._  
_Love you_  
_S  
_  
Steve made his way down from Williamsburg to Brighton Beach. The summer was finally starting to break, and Steve could feel a cooler edge in the breeze as he approached the coastline. He slowed as he reached the beach, pulling out his phone.   
  
"Dude. What I tell you about calling before 8am?" Came Sam's voice after 2 rings.   
  
"Like you haven't been up and at 'em since 5," Steve answered.  
   
"I'm afraid your old ass is unfamiliar with phone etiquette. Do you know how to text? It's like a telegraph."  
  
"I can text! I use emoji!" Steve laughed.   
  
"So I guess Tony told you?" Sam said.   
  
"What? No, I haven't spoken to him. What happened?"  
  
"Uh -- don't worry. He'll catch you up. What's up?"  
  
"Okay..." Steve normally would have pushed the issue but had other things on his mind. "I wanted to talk to you. Something's happened," he said, walking along the coastline.  
   
"Something like giant domineering robots feeling murder-y?" Sam asked.   
  
"No, nothing like that, although the day's still early. Something happened with Bucky."  
  
"He okay?" Sam's voice was measured.    
   
"I think so. But uh," Steve paused. "We slept together."  
  
"You know that means something else in modern vernacular, right?"  
  
Steve rolled his eyes. "That's what I mean. We had sex."  
  
"You had sex with Bucky. You had sex with Bucky?" Sam wasn't processing.   
  
"Yes. I think we're... In a relationship. Romantically."   
  
A pause. And then:   
  
"It would be weirder if you had sex with someone you weren't in a relationship with. But, really, I had no idea you were -- are you gay?"   
  
"I don't know. I assume the having sex with a man kind of indicates that."  
  
"Well, you'd be surprised. You don't have to put a label on it now. But, Steve... Just be careful, OK? People come back from war-zones and make decisions they might not otherwise make. Barnes... The dude's been through a lot."   
  
"What, you think this is some trauma based, knee-jerk reaction?"  
  
"I have no idea, Steve. I'm just saying that it's complicated and you need to be aware that he might ... I don't know. Change his mind or behave in a way you're not expecting."  
  
"Yeah, you can say that again," Steve muttered.  
   
"I just want you to know he may not be able to have a functional relationship. Or it might be fine. But you know him better than me, better than anyone."  
  
"It makes sense. Thanks, Sam. You coming to the city any time soon?"  
  
"Actually, yeah -- I gotta run but I'll call you later, okay?"  
  
They hung up and Steve realised he'd been dawdling at the beach. He'd have to push himself to make his 8am deadline. He grinned.   
  
*  
  
Steve needn't have worried, though. When he arrived back at the apartment, sweating but not out of breath, Bucky was still tucked up in bed. He was now on his stomach, sprawled out and taking up most of the bed. Steve smirked to himself and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. In a flash, Bucky flipped himself over and grabbed Steve's throat with his metal arm.   
  
"Bucky!"  
  
The Winter Soldier's eyes were blank, brows furrowed. And then, recognition; a quickly indrawn breath, and Bucky released him immediately.   
  
"Fuck, Steve! I'm sorry."  
  
"No, I'm sorry --" Steve said quickly. "Are you okay?"  
   
"Yeah, I'm fine I --" Bucky broke off, sitting up against the headboard and pulling Steve to him. "Unexpected touching just -- well, yeah. I normally would have heard you come in. I must have been really out," Bucky said, running his hand up and down Steve's back as if to soothe him.   
  
"I guess I wore you out," Steve said, with an expression Bucky couldn't read.   
  
"Mm-hmm," he said, kissing Steve, who pushed him back against the pillows. Fuck, it was so good he got to do this now, Bucky thought. So warm and delicious and perfect.   
  
Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve's waist and tugged him up so they were flush against each other. Steve could feel Bucky's hardness under the quilt.   
  
"Morning, soldier," he teased. Bucky, embarrassingly, whined a little at that, deepening their kiss and pushing his tongue into Steve's mouth.   
  
Bucky had started to pull Steve's shirt up his back - a challenge, as it was kind of sticking to him - when ACDC blasted out into the room. Steve's phone was ringing.   
  
"Really?"   
  
"It's Stark - he sets that as his ringtone on everyone's phone," Steve muttered, reaching for it. Bucky batted at his hand.   
  
"You're busy," he suggested.   
  
"It's Stark," Steve repeated, "if I don't answer, he'll show up."  
  
Bucky huffed and conceded.   
  
"Hey, Tony," Steve said.   
  
"Hey, Cap. I need you to come to the tower. And bring Tin-Man with you."  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"Unknown. We may have a situation," Stark said vaguely. "I want your input."  
  
Bucky tugged at Steve so he flopped down onto his side. He licked his ear.   
  
"Uh, can you give me a couple hours?"   
  
"What, don't tell me you have plans this morning, Rogers. Brunch date at the senior centre?"  
   
"No," Steve said, faltering as Bucky rubbed a hand down his stomach. "Just tell me if you need me now or not," Steve snapped.  
  
"What _is_ going on over there? Just be here by lunch, Spangles."  
   
Steve hung up before Stark asked any more hard questions.   
  
"Buck," he began, but boy-wonder had already flipped them so his thighs bracketed Steve's lap, pinning him down.  
   
"What?" He asked. Steve could practically see the halo glowing.   
  
"You know what," he growled, pulling Bucky down for a wet kiss. He rolled his hips, and Bucky shuffled down, sucking at his neck before running his hands under his shirt and brushing the tips of his fingers over his nipples.   
  
"Mmnnghh," Steve breathed. Bucky licked a path down his abdomen before palming Steve's erection through his running shorts.   
Steve groaned again and Bucky hooked his thumbs in the shorts and pulled them down around his thighs. He tilted his head up at Steve.

"May I?"  
  
_Fuck, was he seriously asking permission?_ Steve nearly lost it right then.  "Yes," Steve said quickly, and then Bucky was taking Steve's cock in his mouth, sucking on the head and flicking his tongue over the slit.   
  
"Fuck," Steve panted. Bucky slipped his mouth lower, taking in most of the length before wrapping his flesh hand around the remainder. He pumped his hand slowly up and down, letting his saliva coat the length of it, making it slick and warm.   
  
Steve made a higher pitched noise which made Bucky laugh, the vibrations travelling down his tongue. Steve made the noise again.   
Bucky placed his metal hand on Steve's lower abdomen, holding him down as his sucked his cock. Steve writhed a little, wanting to thrust up into his mouth. Bucky gazed up at Steve who had his eyes screwed shut, lashes fanning out against his flushed cheeks.   
Bucky got into a rhythm, revelling every time he made Steve make one of those pitchy, breathy little whines. They became more frequent, Steve basically mewling under his mouth, and it was driving Bucky crazy. His own cock was rock hard and leaking precome as he began to pump most of Steve's cock with his hand, just sucking hard on the tip.   
  
"Bucky, mmf, can you -- swap hands," Steve muttered.   
  
Bucky's eyebrows shot up. _Noted_. He wrapped his metal fist around Steve's cock and continued to pump it, still sucking on the head like it was life giving.  
  
"Bucky, Buck, nnggh, I can't --I'm gonna come," Steve whined. He opened his eyes and met Bucky's steel gaze, sucking in a sharp breath before he came, hard and deliciously, pumping ropes of cum into Bucky's mouth.  
   
"Fuck!" Steve yelled, fisting the sheets. Bucky sucked him through it, swallowing, and lessening the pressure incrementally until freeing him from his mouth with a soft pop.   
  
Steve went limp, heart pounding in his chest as the pleasure crested over him.  
   
"Fuck, you're so good," he mumbled, pulling Bucky up and folding him into him so they were spooning. He breathed in Bucky's hair and rubbed a hand down his chest. "So good, baby," he closed his eyes and let himself sink further into the soft pillows.   
  
"Are you... Have you fallen asleep on me, Rogers?!" Bucky twisted around to look at Steve's peaceful expression. Steve pulled him closer and actually _shushed_ him.  
   
"Just for a minute," he mumbled.   
  
*

A minute turned into an hour and Bucky fell back asleep too, soothed by Steve's even breaths.   
  
When they woke, Steve was a little frantic. "Need to get into Manhattan before 12," he said, scrambling up. "I'm gonna take a quick shower."  
  
"Me too," said Bucky, and they both disappeared into their respective bathrooms. Bucky jumped in the shower and soaped up. He thought about trying to get off himself, but then decided he was better off waiting for the real thing. He was sure he could get Steve to repay him soon enough.   
  
He was out and dressed while Steve was still in the bathroom. God, the man could preen. As he foraged for a snack, his eyes fell on the note Steve had left for him. He felt a fuzzy sensation in his chest. He folded up the note and tucked it into his pocket.  
  
"Ready?" Steve asked, emerging from his room dressed but still towelling his hair.  
  
"Waiting on you, gorgeous," Bucky said with a wink. The expression made nostalgia creep up in Steve's chest, sweet and sharp. 

  
*

  
Steve and Bucky rode the Harley into Manhattan. Bucky kept his hands low on Steve's stomach and leaned into him, very much enjoying the vibrations of the powerful bike below him.   
  
They pulled up to the Avengers Tower just after 12. Steve had weaved around much of the traffic but hadn't been as aggressive as he usually was (what, with the helmet on no one had to know it was Captain America who had cut them off) but with Bucky with him, he felt the need to go a little safer.   
  
Pulling off his helmet, Bucky shook out his hair, which made Steve grin. "You're a puppy," he said. Bucky frowned, pulling himself up and arranging his features into a blank stare.   
  
"Не заставляй меня ударить тебя."  
  
Steve swallowed. "Sorry," he said. Bucky grinned.   
  
"So, uh, what are we saying to your friends?" Bucky asked, matching Steve's stride as they walked into the lobby.   
  
" _Our_ friends," he corrected. "I thought we'd just read the room. Maybe just tone down the PDA, for now," he said.   
  
Bucky pouted, but really he agreed. He kind of wanted to keep this _his_ , for as long as he could.  
   
JARVIS welcomed them as they stepped into the elevator. "Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes," he said. "Mr Stark is awaiting your arrival on the 24th floor."    
  
They walked into the meeting room and were met by Tony, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint.   
  
"Capsicle! Robocop. Welcome back," Stark said, gesturing around grandly.   
  
Banner nodded at them both, giving a little smile and looking at the floor. Nat offered her trademark blink-and-you'll-miss-it upturn quirk of the lips.   
  
Barton just gave them a "hey," before turning back to Stark. "So who is this guy and what'd he steal?"   
  
"That's what we're trying to find out. Cap, did Sam fill you in?"   
  
Bucky giggled, _mature_ , and Steve elbowed him in the ribs. "No -- what's going on?"  
   
"Wilson had a little altercation on the roof of our training facility yesterday. The incredible shrinking man, apparently." Stark called up satellite footage of the falcon fighting a man in a red and black suit who seemed to appear and disappear.   
  
"Where'd he go?" Asked Steve.   
  
"According to Sam, he didn't _go_ anywhere. He just got really small,"  
   
"Really small?" Barton made air quotes. "And still managed to tank Wilson?"  
   
Natasha cut in. "Called himself Ant-Man. Sam said that when he was small, he still has the same strength,"  
  
"Wait a sec..." Stark started flipping through screens on the monitor, before landing on an article on Pym Tech. "Hank Pym developed some of this kind of tech. He got kinda shitty with SHIELD when they tried to replicate it. My dad thought he'd buried this for good," Stark added, his voice excited.   
  
"Surely this isn't Pym, though?" Asked Natasha.  
   
"No, the guy must be 60 plus now," said Stark. "Maybe a son? JARVIS, find out everything you can about Pym after he resigned from SHIELD," he commanded.   
  
"Already on it, Sir," JARVIS responded imperiously.   
  
"You said he took something?" Steve asked, leaning on the desk with his palms. Bucky folded his arms and took in the view. Steve looked so... _edible_ in his motorcycle boots and brown jacket. His stare did not go unnoticed by Natasha, who caught his eye and flicked her eyebrows up.   
  
"Something from one of Dad's old warehouses. We're still cataloguing half the stuff in there so it could be hard to find out what it was unless we pin this guy down."  
  
"So our only leads are Pym and the warehouse item. I say we head up there and see if we can figure out what he took," Steve said.   
  
"Let's see if JARVIS comes back with anything on Pym. We can fly up to the facility tomorrow," said Natasha.   
  
Steve inclined his head in agreement, and Stark seemed satisfied.  
   
"I'm gonna head back up to the lab, Tony," Banner said.  
   
"I'll join you," Stark said quickly.  
   
"Actually, Tony -- could we have a conversation?" Steve gestured to Bucky.   
  
"Oh my god, do I get to play with the arm? Tell me I get to play with the arm," he said, stepping into Bucky's space. Steve put a hand on Stark's chest as Bucky blanched away.  
  
"I said conversation," he said pointedly.

*

The three of them stepped into one of the doctors' rooms on the floor above. Bucky looked increasingly uncomfortable, but hoisted himself up on the table. Steve hovered. 

“So what’s up,” Stark asked, leaning against the counter and folding his arms. 

Steve looked at Bucky. “My arm hurts,” Bucky finally said. 

He sat on a stool and pulled himself up to Bucky, gesturing with a twirling finger. “Take off your shirt,” he said. Bucky complied. “How long has it been hurting? Where’s the pain?” 

“It – It always hurts, on the join. Feels hot, prickly," Bucky said and Stark nodded. 

“Nerve pain. Not surprising, given the hatchet job they did.” Stark lifted the metal bicep and pushed it across Bucky’s chest, running his fingers over the seam and the scarred flesh. Bucky shivered. 

“Tony,” Steve muttered. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky said. 

“Look, there’s no getting around this… awfulness. It's purposefully cruel," Stark said, and Steve bit his lip. "I mean, one option is to cut the whole thing out and attached a new prosthetic, but I don’t know how long I would need to construct something this sophisticated. I mean, I could definitely do it,” he added quickly. 

“Anything a little less… invasive?” Bucky asked. His voice wavered. Steve put his hand on Bucky’s knee. 

“I can give you Botox,” Stark said. 

“Christ, Tony. Take this seriously, for fuck's sake.” Steve said, his voice cold and sharp. 

“Cap – I’m not joking. Jeez,” Stark raised his palms in surrender. He turned back to Bucky “I can inject Botox into your shoulder. It cushions everything and will numb the whole area. Usually lasts about six or eight weeks.” he said. 

“Okay,” Bucky said.

“Do you want me to work on a new prosthetic?” 

“I— I don’t know if I can… have surgery. I don’t want you to waste your time.” 

“Banner and I are looking at some medical tech stuff. Let me put something together, OK? I love this stuff. It’s not a problem,” Stark said, pushing the stool back to the counter and rustling around in the drawer. He snapped on some gloves and pulled out a syringe. Bucky flinched, scrambling back. 

“Jesus, Barnes – it’s the Botox. Do you not want to do this now?”                                                       

Bucky swallowed hard, unused to being presented with choice. Being treated like a person. ”Do it," 

 “Turn around, arm up,” Stark said. Bucky stood and leant into Steve, putting his arms around his neck and resting his head on his shoulder. “That works,” he said, cocking a brow. He smoothed the skin near the joint, and quickly injected three spots next to each other around the seam of the metal. 

“All done,” he said, tossing the syringe into the medical waste bin. "Should start feeling better in a few." 

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said, as Bucky showed no signs of pulling away. “Give us a minute, will you?”  

“Sure thing,” he said, and patted Bucky awkwardly on his other shoulder as he walked out. He caught the doorframe, "stay for dinner, lovebirds?" 

Steve grinned. "Yeah,"

Bucky nosed in his neck. "Love you," he muttered. 

Steve kissed his temple. "Love you too." 

* 

  
Bucky was subdued in the afternoon, listening as Natasha and Steve chatted and drank beers. Steve did it more for the social convention, though Bucky suspected Nat didn't get drunk either.   
  
"So, still no girls, Rogers?" Nat asked, leaning back in her chair. Bucky's ears perked up.  
   
Steve smirked. "No girls. Been pretty busy with Buck," he said.   
  
"He's kind of a handful," Bucky said. "And a mouthful."  
   
Steve choked.   
  
"I'll bet," Nat said, no reaction crossing her features.   
  
Recovering, Steve managed to say, "and you?"   
  
She gestured vaguely at Barton, who was tossing darts. "We kind of have a thing. A casual thing."   
  
Steve's phone vibrated against his thigh as Barton strolled over and planted himself next to Bucky.   
  
_Have I been a good soldier today?  
_  
Steve swallowed and quickly typed a response as Barton chatted.   
  
_Sure, up until your little comment just now. I might have to punish you for it._  
  
He saw Bucky look down at his phone and make a little squeak.   
  
"Okay there, Barnes?" Nat asked.   
  
"Mmhmm," he nodded, not looking up.   
  
_Teach me not to run my mouth, sir.  
_  
Heat pooled at the base of Steve's spine. Sir? Holy  _shit.  
_  
"...seems like it could work out. What do you think, Cap?" Barton said, looking at Steve.   
  
"Yeah. Sounds good," he said, no idea what he was agreeing to. Natasha and Barton shared a look. 

  
*

   
They sat at dinner; Stark had ordered in basically a whole Chinese buffet, and Bucky was gorging himself on spring rolls and updating Stark on the arm. He put a hand on Steve's thigh under the table, with no break in his conversation or eye contact. He squeezed. "Feels really good, Tony. Thanks," he said.    
  
_Keep that up, soldier, and you won't come at all today._ Steve texted.   
  
Bucky's hand slid further up his thigh.   
  
_I think you're all talk_.  
  
Steve stood up suddenly. "I think we're gonna head out," he said, Bucky's eyes gazed up and him, wide and mischievous.   
  
"Barton said you were staying? I've sent a messenger to get your gear. For tomorrow?" Stark said, looking at him like he was dumb as shit.   
  
Steve sat back down. "Right. Old age," he joked, gesturing at himself. Bucky smirked.   
  
It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wh-what? Something akin to plot? I don't know who I am anymore. Kind of not much but a lot happens in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it -- will work on the next bit over the weekend :)


	6. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy sex occurs and the boys make themselves at home in the future. Yay!

Everyone was drinking and getting a little rowdy, except for Steve, and Bucky. Bucky didn't want to risk alcohol bringing on any kind of _episode_. Especially when he was having such a fun night. He was getting his own buzz out of Steve, anyway.

  
Steve snuck into the kitchen to brew a cup of tea. When he turned to the cabinet, though, he found himself cornered. By Natasha.

  
"So, what have you done to Barnes?" She asked.

_Well, recently, I fuck him until he comes screaming my name._

  
Steve feigned ignorance. "What?"

  
"Come on, Rogers." Natasha smiled. "He's giggling, calling people by their first name, _looking at you like he wants to eat you for breakfast_ ," her voice dropped low.

Steve snorted, and then composed himself. He was pretty sure Buck wouldn't mind Nat knowing, but he'd rather Bucky had the choice. And it was fun to have a secret.  

  
"He's doing well, yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck.

  
"Mm hmm," Nat said, smirking. She touched his arm, her expression sincere. "I'm glad," she said.

  
"There you are," it was Barton, clearly having imbibed too much as he swayed over to Nat, gathering her up in his arms. She allowed herself to be held, shooting a smile at Steve as she was steered away.

  
Steve's phone vibrated against his thigh.

_  
Hide and seek?_

  
His brow furrowed, before a smile tugged at his mouth. He took his tea and went out into the common area. Sure enough, Bucky was nowhere to be found. Steve took in the room, scanning. It was mostly open plan, and he'd just come from the kitchen, so... His eyes fell on the supply closet. He glanced around for witnesses. Stark and Banner were on the couch, deep in conversation. Tony had his feet tucked up under Bruce's thighs, gesturing animatedly. Wanda had come out of her nest, snagging a box of noodles from the discarded buffet, and was sat in front of the huge television, playing a video game. Natasha and Barton had scurried away.

  
He stepped over to the closet, placing his tea on a side table, and stepped in.

  
Bucky had his back against the wall, knees up, and was lazily stroking himself over his pants.

  
"Buck!" Steve whispered, warmth flooding to his cock as he took in his messy hair and his hand on his erection.

  
"Can't stop thinking about how hot you are. How hot you were this morning, with my mouth on you," he dropped forward onto his hands and _crawled_ to Steve's feet, gazing up at him. His eyes were black with lust.

  
"Teach me a lesson, Captain."

  
Steve's breath caught in his chest. _Shit, this is so hot._ He put a hand on Bucky's hair, stroking him like a pet. Bucky keened and rubbed into his hand, as if touch-starved.

  
"You left me hanging this morning, Stevie..." he breathed, mouthing at Steve's thigh.

  
"I know, I'm sorry, baby," he answered. Steve dropped to his knees and took Bucky's face in his hands, kissing him on the mouth. It was soft and tender, but Bucky wrapped his hands around his neck and forced his tongue into Steve's mouth. Steve pulled back, getting into his role.

  
"Patience, soldier," he commanded, "be good and kiss me nicely."

  
Bucky forced himself to relax, despite feeling desperate to rip Steve's clothes off. He kissed him softly on the mouth.

  
"Good boy," Steve breathed, and Bucky whimpered, his jeans digging into his desperately hard dick. Steve stripped off his shirt and did the same for Bucky.

  
"I need you," Bucky moaned. "Fuck me here, on the floor," he begged.

  
"You have waited nicely all day," Steve muttered, rubbing the damp, fine hair at the back of Bucky's neck. "Lay down," he instructed, pushing Bucky's chest with both hands and guiding him back. He followed him down as Bucky stretched out his legs underneath Steve.

  
"Good boy," Steve purred again, sucking lovebites into his throat. Bucky moaned, way too loud, and Steve smacked a hand over his mouth. "Quiet," he gritted out. "Can you be quiet?"

  
Bucky nodded vigorously under his hand, his eyes wide and needy.

  
Steve tugged Bucky's jeans down to his thighs and wrapped a hand around his cock. Bucky fumbled in his pocket and produced some lube.

  
Steve broke for a second, smiling, "have you had that all day?!" he laughed, and Bucky flicked his eyebrows up and bit his lip.

  
"Like I said, you left me hanging. Guy's gotta keep his hopes up."

  
Steve slicked up his hand and wrapped it around Bucky, taking him in hand in long, quick strokes. Bucky bit his lip again and screwed his eyes shut. Steve shuffled down and licked at his cock, before adding more lube and slipping one finger inside. Bucky stuck his flesh forearm in his mouth, biting down to muffle his keening sounds.

  
Steve worked Bucky open on his fingers, a little more roughly than before. He could see pre-come beading at the top of Bucky's cock. He scissored his fingers inside him. "Do you like that, soldier?"

  
"Nnngh yes- _yes_ , more, please, need you now baby,"

Steve stopped briefly, "Baby?" He dropped his voice, low and dangerous.

  
"Sir! Captain. Please," Bucky panted. Steve's lips twitched at the corner. He licked his lips and pulled his fingers out, slicking up his own cock and nudging at Bucky's entrance. Bucky arched his back to encourage him.

Steve slipped in, inches at a time, and Bucky put his arm back in his mouth, before Steve pulled it away and covered Bucky's mouth with his own hand. He thrust into his lover, the tight heat engulfing him, his brain on fire with pleasure as he fucked him.

He moaned, louder than Bucky had been, and punctuated his thrusts with words:

"Fuck. You're so. Tight," he cried, and Bucky was sure they'd be overheard, so he nudged Steve's hand away from his mouth so he could press their lips together. Steve immediately licked into his mouth, urgent, all soft tenderness forgotten.

  
Steve pulled back, holding himself up on one arm to thrust into Bucky harder. He was flushed red from his cheeks all the way down his chest, sweat beading on his collarbone. Bucky gazed at him in awe, arching into each stroke and sucking in sharp breaths every time he grazed his prostate. Steve slipped his other hand around Bucky's cock, making a loose fist and fucking it over him in time with the rolls of his hips.

  
Bucky's eyes rolled back in his head, he cried out sharply, "Steve!" gasping for breath. "I can't, I'm gonna..." breaking off as Steve looked at him, eyes wild.

  
"Wait, we're not done yet," Steve growled, and released Bucky's dick, ghosting his hand up his body to rest on his throat, not squeezing, but there. Bucky let out a soft whimper.

  
"Okay, Buck?" he panted, and Bucky nodded again, so close to coming he felt like he was about to plummet 40 stories, just... _teetering_ there dangerously, so close.

  
Steve leaned in close to his ear, tonguing the shell of it, "you wanna come, baby? Come while I fuck you, come with my hand on your throat," he purred, his voice like velvet.

  
Bucky took in another sharp breath, feeling fingers pressing on his jugular, and then Steve's cock touched his prostate. He was lost to the fall, drowning as the pleasure gripped him, pumping cum all over his stomach and chest.    

  
Steve, looking completely fucked out, hair mussed and eyes black, took his hand from Bucky's throat and scratched his fingers down his chest, collecting cum on them before feeding them into Bucky's mouth. He sucked on them eagerly, and the twin sensations of Bucky's mouth and hole drove Steve to the brink. He pounded into him, any shred of control lost, before finally gasping and painting Bucky's insides with his cum.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Steve whimpered, burying his face in Bucky's neck, fingers still in his mouth, as he rode out his orgasm. Bucky's arms came around his back, squeezing him close and rocking his hips.

They finally stilled, and Steve pulled out, rolling over onto his back, just barely fitting with the two of them lying there on the closet floor, under the gaze of what Steve thought was a particularly judgmental mop. Bucky's cum coated both their chests.

He came back to himself after a few minutes, and reddened. "I think I was kinda loud," he muttered, looking at Bucky who stared up at the ceiling, his face a picture of contentment.

"Yeah, kinda," he drawled.

Prepared to face the music, Steve heaved himself up and tugged up his jeans, holding out a hand to Bucky, who reluctantly pulled himself off the floor.

  
Steve opened the closet door as silently as he could, his cup of tea cold on the table next to it. He peeked around, to silence and darkness, spotting an abandoned book and box of noodles in the living area.

"I guess we scared them off," Bucky said, rubbing his chest clean with one of their shirts bundled in his hand.

"I guess so," Steve said, mortified. They walked out to the elevator and made their way up to Steve's floor, shooting each other sidelong glances and grinning.

 

***

Bucky had decided to stay in the avengers tower while Steve, Tony, Clint and Natasha went up to the training facility. He wanted to see Sam, but he wasn't ready for missions. The thought of being in a combat situation made him feel sick. He would stay put for now with Wanda and Bruce.

Jarvis had identified Ant Man as Scott Lang, an ex-con. The team planned to track him down and recover the stolen object.

  
"How long will you be gone?" Bucky mumbled into Steve's shoulder. He was damp and warm from a shower. He had come back to Bucky in a towel and curled around him. Steve rubbed his hair.

"Only a couple of days. Don't expect much of a problem," he said.

Steve held his face and kissed him, soft and chaste. Bucky kissed him like he would never see Steve again, and it made Steve's heart constrict.

"Tell me you love me," Bucky whispered against his mouth.

"I love you," he answered immediately. "I love you more than anything."

Steve extricated himself from Bucky and began to suit up. It was so early it was still dark out, and it made Bucky uneasy.

"I can call you, right? If I need?" He hated how he sounded so needy.

Steve stopped, uniform half on, hair mussed, and got on his knees by the head of the bed to look at Bucky's face.

"Do you need me to stay? I can stay," he said, stroking his hair.

Bucky licked his lips. "Nah. I'll be okay. I'm older than you," he teased, shoving Steve playfully and trying to inject some lightness into his tone. He could do this.

"Okay," Steve said, brow furrowing minutely. He pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead and resumed dressing as Bucky watched, silent and snug.

AC/DC blasted from Steve's phone. Steve flicked it on speaker so he could sit on the bed and pull on his boots.

"I'm almost on my way, Stark," he said. "Why are we leaving so early?"

"Geniuses don't sleep, Rogers. I have this pre-dawn yoga thing. Just checking you're not oversleeping after such a busy night. Might be a--" his voice went breathy, "-- _tight squeeze_ to make our flight plan."

Steve's eyes slid to Bucky's, cheeks flushing. "Oh, Jesus Christ," he muttered. Bucky grinned.

"You know 'in the closet' is just a figure of speech, Captain --"

"Stark," Steve cut him off, his tone warning. "I'll meet you in the lobby in 5." He hung up.

"Have fun," Bucky sing-songed, eyes dancing.

"Oh, you are not getting out of this. I'll see to it when I'm back," Steve said, but his mouth twitched into a smirk. He grabbed Bucky's face, roughly, and kissed him fiercely.

"Be a good boy," he muttered. Something in Bucky's stomach coiled.

"Yes, Cap," he breathed, and he watched Steve leave, eyes on the way the leather cupped his tight ass.

Bucky did okay for the morning, following the instructions Steve had left on the fridge, telling him to eat breakfast, wash his hair and go out for a walk.

He liked having these little directions. It was funny how being told what to do made him feel in control.

He went out to the common area to heat up some mac and cheese. God, Bucky loved cheese. Bruce was hovering in front of the oven, mitts in hand. He glanced up and gave him a half smile.

"Hey," he turned back to his creation. "I'm trying to make a quiche."

Bucky smiled. He and Bruce got along. Bruce kind of got it. He struggled with another side of himself, a violence he didn’t ask for. He suddenly felt the urge to share.

“I’m in love with Steve,” he blurted out. Bruce looked at him, his eyes widened slightly.

“I mean… we kind of overheard,” Bruce swallowed, looking mortified. “Does he know how you feel?”  

“Yeah. He loves me back,” Bucky said. His face felt tight, he was grinning. Bruce smiled back at him.

“You’re a lucky guy. It’s more than most people ever get,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Bucky said, looking down. The microwave pinged and his macaroni was ready. He dug in, savouring the melted cheese and cream on his tongue.

 

*

 

In the afternoon, Bucky napped. He got tired a lot, what with his brain working hard to process and decipher old memories and new information simultaneously.

He dreamed. He never really dreamed, unless it was a nightmare, but this afternoon he dreamed. He saw Steve, in full get up, giving a speech to a crowd. Bucky’s heart and stomach were warm with pride and hope. Then Steve was talking about him, gesturing to him, asking him to come up and join him on the podium. In real life, Bucky would have been anxious, paranoid; but in the dream he was confident, even had some of his old swagger. He went up to the stage. Steve took his hand and told the whole crowd he loved him. Bucky took a sweeping bow with a smirk, and people laughed and clapped. They were happy. Steve kissed him, and the crowd went wild with whistles and delighted screams. The scene faded and they were alone, and suddenly Bucky was desperate for him, begging to be fucked hard and rough like he needed. Steve obliged.

He woke up before he came in the dream, and when he woke he really _was_ desperate. He rolled over to look at his phone. He had slept for 3 hours and it was now almost 7. _Oops_ . He had a message from Steve.

 _All OK here. Found Lang. He’s a dork, threat level zero. Miss you_.

  
Bucky grinned, pleased. His cock ached.

_  
Miss you too. Like, really miss you. Can you call?_

  
An instant reply.

_  
In a few. How was your day?_

_  
Good. Went for walk. Had lunch with Bruce. Napped. Dreamed of you fucking me. _

  
3 typing dots, and then a pause. Bucky smirked.

_  
I’m jealous of dream-me. Last night was really something._

_  
Dream-you didn’t finish me off. Call me, please. I wanna hear you._

  
Bucky waited a few agonising minutes before the phone rang. He answered immediately. “Hey,” his voice was breathy.

  
“Hey yourself,” Steve said. _Fuck, so good to hear his voice,_ Bucky thought.

  
“I miss you,” Bucky said, and his voice was dripping with intent.

  
“I miss you too, baby,” Steve replied. “This line uh, probably isn’t secure, you know.”

  
“I don’t really give a fuck,” Bucky said, starting to touch himself. “So good day, baby?”

  
Steve talked happily about the mission for a little bit before Bucky interrupted, too distracted by his erection. “Tell me what you miss most,” he said.

  
“Buck--”

  
“ _Please_.”

  
Steve could never really say no when he made that little pleading voice. “I miss your mouth,” Steve said, his voice just above a whisper.

  
Bucky smirked. “Miss me sucking you off, Stevie? Being so good on my knees for you?” Steve lets out a tiny whimper.

  
“Mm-hmm,” he responds.

  
“ _Fuck,_ I want you right now. Tell me how you’d fuck me, Steve. Want your mouth on me, licking me open, when you got me so wet for you,” Bucky gasps, pleasure shooting through his cock at the memory.

  
“I -- I want it rough, Buck. Want to feel you so tight around me,” Steve’s breath is ragged. He never could last long listening to Bucky’s dirty talk, even when he was just overhearing him with a girl. It never failed to get him achingly hard. “Want to watch you clean up your cum like you did last night,” Bucky can hear wet, thrusting sounds as Steve fucks himself.

  
“Mmm,” Bucky moans. “I love your cock, Stevie, fills me up so good,” he rasps.

  
“Tell me how much you love it,” Steve’s _Cap_ voice is back.

  
“Oh, god, Steve, you get me so hard, I love feeling you fuck me,” Bucky says. “ _Unghh_ , this feels so good,”

  
“You close, soldier?”

  
“Yes,” Bucky hisses, “thinking about your huge cock fucking me open, oh, _Christ_ , Steve,”

  
“You like it with my hands on your throat? Making you mine, making you beg,” Steve’s voice is wrecked. Bucky can picture him, touching himself, sweat gleaming. He is _so_ close.

  
“Yes, _mmmhn_ , I like it, I need it, oh _god_ when you get home, I want you to fuck me so hard, Stevie, please,”

  
“You gonna beg like a good boy, Barnes? Beg me to fuck you, let you come all over yourself,” Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head as he fucks his fist in earnest, feeling his balls tighten, running his other, metal fingers over his nipples and chest, crying out.

  
“Nnnghhh, _yes sir,_ yes _please_ , let me come, I’ve been so good -- I wanna hear you,” he whimpers, low and needy.

  
Steve lets out a _filthy_ moan. “Shit, Buck, you’re so fucking hot,” he mutters, “Come for me first, say my name, that’s -- that’s what I need to hear, baby,”

  
“St -- Steve,”

  
“Yeah, come over yourself, come thinking about me fucking you open, _shit_ , when I get home, I’m gonna bend you over, _first thing I do_ ,” Steve’s breathless now, desperate.

  
“Fuck, Steve! _Nghh, yes,_ I’m gonna _come, I’m --”_ he broke off into a throaty groan as he spilled over his fist.

  
“Mmh, yes, baby, so good, I love hearing you,” Steve sucks in a harsh breath. “I’m gonna, _fuck_ , uhh, -- God, you’re so pretty, baby, I need you so much --” His voice cracked and Bucky heard the low whimper in his throat as he came. They breathe into the line for a minute.

  
“When are you coming home?” Bucky whined, satisfied, but only barely. His lust is just simmering below the surface.

  
“As soon as I fucking can,” Steve mumbled, and Bucky could hear the smile in his voice.

*

It was 3 days later when the team returned. Steve and Bucky had talked everyday, and each day Bucky had felt a little more relaxed being on his own. He had lunch with Bruce everyday, went out for walks, rediscovered _donuts -_ how could he forget about donuts?

He was more than ready for Steve to come home, though. _All_ the way ready.

He waited on the roof of the tower with Bruce as they heard the Quinjet approach. Steve, Nat, Stark and Barton all filed out, followed by a guy Bucky presumed to be Scott Lang. They looked a little tired but definitely not worse for wear. Steve, as always, looked like a dream. His face lit up when he saw Bucky waiting for him.

“Hey, you,” he said. Bucky grinned, grabbing Steve’s neck with both hands and pulling him down into a fierce kiss. Stark whistled and Barton muttered something about ‘fucking finally’, while Scott just exclaimed, “wait, what? That’s awesome!”

Bucky smiled against Steve’s mouth. He knew he loved this fucking decade.  

The group made their way inside and chatted for a while, before Bucky led Steve back to their floor, Steve dropping his shield by the door with a _thunk_ . Bucky wandered into Steve’s room and called out,

“Hey, baby, can you come give me a hand with something?'

  


_\--fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments, this was really fun and I loved getting feedback :)


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